


our bodies, made from crushed little stars

by Ethereally



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Character Study, Gen, Trans Character, non-sexual nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:38:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24550177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereally/pseuds/Ethereally
Summary: In a pinch Claude could probably scale the bamboo fence, hop over it, and rush back to his room where he would lock and bolt the windows. If Plan A fails, he can scramble up a tree, snap some necks, and then hide out for safety until dawn. Nevertheless, he grips the knife tighter and grits his teeth, steadying himself for a potential fight.He's probably overreacting given how tight monastery security is, but he's always hated leaving things up to chance. The last thing he wants is for “Here lies Claude von Riegan, killed half-naked and afraid in a sauna standoff” to be engraved on his tombstone for eternity.All Claude had hoped for was a peaceful, uninterrupted bath.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg & Claude von Riegan, Edelgard von Hresvelg/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 93





	our bodies, made from crushed little stars

Claude hears a rustling noise and his hand flies down to clench the knife at his waist. His eyes dart around the outdoor hot springs area, heartbeat accelerating as the sound of footsteps grows ominously louder. There's no way anyone sane would be paying the sauna a visit at three in the morning, especially not on a school night. At least he's just begun the process of stripping down. It's freezing out, but he doesn't have time to throw the long jacket of his uniform back on — it lies with his under shirt and towel in a haphazard heap by a bench, and Claude rushes over to grab it.

There aren't enough footsteps for there to be more than one or two intruders, so they're probably faculty, monks or fellow students. Nobody particularly threatening. In a pinch Claude could probably scale the bamboo fence, hop over it, and rush back to his room where he would lock and bolt the windows. If Plan A fails, he can scramble up a tree, snap some necks, and then hide out for safety until dawn. Nevertheless, he grips the knife tighter and grits his teeth, steadying himself for a potential fight.

He's probably overreacting given how tight monastery security is, but he's always hated leaving things up to chance. The last thing he wants is for “Here lies Claude von Riegan, killed half-naked and afraid in a sauna standoff” to be engraved on his tombstone for eternity.

The sliding door opens. Claude narrows his eyes. The light from the entrance casts a shadow, stretching the intruder's figure across the trees and rocks outside the spring — there's only one of them, which would be their mistake. He whips around, turning to face them, lips parting with shock as he notices a slight girl with white hair and deep purple eyes. Claude loosens his hold on his knife, putting a hand behind his head and shooting her an easy grin.

“Well, if it isn't Her Majesty! What are you doing here at this unholy hour?”

Edelgard blinks back at Claude. She takes a step back, dagger still raised, and Claude guffaws, hearing false laughter reverberate around the courtyard. Somehow, he suspects that she isn't dumb enough to kill him here. Edelgard wouldn't do it with her own hands. She's more the sort to raise an army and storm the school, or hire some bandits to take Claude out, but there are no more footsteps to be heard in the distance. The dagger is likely for protection. Frankly, he can't blame her, all things considered, and he gestures around the hot spring, smile ever-present.

“Lovely winter night to have a hot bath, huh?”

“Charming as ever, Claude.”

Edelgard lowers her knife, though she doesn't let go. She can suit herself. He's got no quarrel with her, but there's no way for her to know that Claude won't flip a switch and do a sudden murder. Either way, he's not about to pop into the hot springs while Edelgard is here and he tosses his jacket on on top of his binding. Claude raises a hand in front of his face, waggling a finger at Edelgard.

“Whoa, whoa. No need to get so defensive. I was just leaving, actually. Have fun in the water.”

Edelgard squints. “Funny you should say that, given that you're completely dry. Do I have reason to be suspicious, Claude?”

Welp, there's no worming his way out of this one. “You got me there.” He notes how tightly-set Edelgard's eyes are, how stiff she is, and Claude shrugs, slumping slightly, keeping his stance as casual as possible. It's so easy to use body language to regain the upper hand. “Just clearing the area for Her Majesty. Isn't that only appropriate?”

Edelgard's lips pull into a taut, angry line. “Somehow, I doubt you have serious views about propriety.”

“Or do I?” Claude beams. He picks up his pace, walking towards the entrance in a brisk stroll. “Anyway, I'm going to go now. Have a great bath, Princess.”

“So you're just going to concede on my behalf? That doesn't sound much like you.”

“Or maybe I'm just someone who picks and chooses my battles.” Claude turns back towards her, shooting Edelgard a measured wink. “Have a good bath, Lady Edelgard.”

“Claude.” Edelgard's voice is surprisingly stern for someone who's dressed in a fluffy pink bathrobe in the middle of winter. She clicks her tongue against her teeth and sighs, and her breath forms clouds in the chilly night air.

“I understand this is a strange request. But would you stay here with me?”

Claude's eyes fly wide open before he can stop himself.

“Excuse me, _what_?”

He bites down, hard, on the tip of his tongue. With all the times Claude's talked his way out of danger, he supposes it's only a matter of time before he talks his way into it. Edelgard von Hresvelg, the future Emperor of Adrestia, offering to relax in the hot springs with him certainly sounds like a trap, and every alarm bell in Claude's mind starts chiming at top volume, telling him to leave, _leave_. Yet there's some primal instinct that keeps him grounded where he stands. He takes a step closer towards her, his tone returning to its calm, measured state.

“You're suggesting that we both strip down and hang out naked? That's certainly a proposition.”

Edelgard winces. Oooh, he got her good there. Claude cackles and ponders for a second if he should wind her up a little more before deciding against it. He folds his arms, waiting for her to finish speaking.

“It does sound rather strange when you put it like that... I thought it might be good to get to know each other better, as house leaders, but also as future rulers. Or... I could use some company. That is all.”

If Claude didn't know Edelgard the way he does, he'd think she was being rather sweet. Instead, a chill rushes through his body and a frost bursts through his gut. It makes no diplomatic sense for him to reject Edelgard's offer when she phrases it like that. However, it means that she's got him right where she wants him — in a position to be hurt, or surrounded, or possibly maimed. Claude bites the inside of his mouth. He doesn't like this.

Then again, if Edelgard was going to murder Claude in a sudden ambush, she could have done so yesterday while he was cramming in the library or the day before that as he dozed quietly in his room. Much as Edelgard does seem like the type who might have a secret flair for theatrics, he suspects that her idea of a murder does not involve her being in the nude.

“Hm,” he says. Claude sucks in a deep breath, making a grand show of tapping his chin. It's always been so easy for him to rebuke Edelgard because she's just as much of a put-on fake as he is, but there's something in her tone that seems almost sincere. His gaze flickers towards the engraved dagger in her hands.

“Put that down and you've got a deal.”

There's still a small part of Claude that's shrieking, telling him to run. Luckily, it's a voice that he's heard countless times before and he's become a master of telling it when to shut up. When your inner monologue operates solely on flight instinct, rationality vis-à-vis decision making tends to do the trick. Edelgard smiles back at him and her tone tastes like the ice-cold air.

“You put yours down too. One would think you've never learned manners.”

Claude throws back his head, laughing. “Naturally.” He takes a step back towards the hot springs, casting Edelgard a sideways glance. “Are you coming with me or what?”

Another smile tugs on Edelgard's lips, but there's a light dancing in her eyes that wasn't there before. “But of course.”

Edelgard is the first to lay her dagger on the stone bench. She sheathes it in a scabbard with intricate engravings, though Claude is quick to take note of the worn leather of her sheath — with that and how gingerly she sets it down on the bench, it's easy to conclude that this blade is sentimental. Claude, on the other hand, unsheathes his knife from his belt; he sends his weapon whirring across the stone bench and it gently bumps into Edelgard's.

“There,” he says. “We're even.”

Edelgard's brow furrows slightly and she parts her lips as though she's about to say something, but lets out another sigh instead. She grabs hold of the tie around her bathrobe's waist and begins to untie the knot. Claude's studies of geography have taught him that it's fairly common for folks in the Adrestian Empire to visit public baths together and that nudity is not quite frowned upon in the Empire the way it is in the Kingdom. One couldn't blame Claude for being suspicious — it seems out of character for someone from the Empire to sneak out at 3 a.m. just to relax in the hot springs, unless they've got something to hide.

Then again, who's to say she doesn't?

Edelgard glances up towards Claude, holding the freshly-undone knot of her bathrobe together with her hands. “We're both going in, aren't we?”

Oh, right. Claude grabs the open halves of his uniform jacket. “Patience, Your Majesty. Why, are you simply too impatient to wait to gaze upon my visage?”

Edelgard groans. “Forget what I said. I am one step away from grabbing my knife.”

Claude cackles in response; to his surprise, Edelgard laughs too, a gentle laugh like dewdrops on lavender in the morning. She lets go of the tie, allowing her bathrobe to swing open, falling to either side of her tiny figure. Scars and burn marks litter what's exposed of her pale skin and Claude is struck with sudden shock — these can't be scars obtained from just battle training. He sucks in his cheeks, trying his best to keep his outward expression neutral.

_Here goes nothing._

With that, he tosses off his jacket, throwing it across the back of the bench. Claude undoes the hooks of his binding behind his back before wiggling out of the garment, flinging it on top of his uniform. The cold nips at his torso, but he isn't completely sure if that's what's causing the chilling feeling surging through his body or how he's beginning to shake.

Edelgard will see the stab wound on his shoulder from the first time bandits tried to kill him.

She'll see the slash on his ribcage when an assassin tried to take his heart.

She'll see his naked form, his bare chest, the untold pieces of the future leader of Almyra and the Alliance both.

The parts of Claude's story that he can't bear to talk about are written on his body loud and clear. Here's Edelgard's chance to flip through the pages.

He watches as Edelgard gingerly removes her bathrobe, draping it on top of her dagger. She turns to him, fully exposed. Her body is littered with gashes and cuts, and a straight, precise line is drawn across her chest like she was bisected with a scalpel.

It confirms what he's always suspected: There's something more to Edelgard, a part of her history that the title of “Imperial Princess” can barely contain. She wants Claude to know this — this is Edelgard's way of baring her soul to him.

 _Why me?_ Claude wants to ask, but fears it will shatter the moment.

There's something incredibly surreal about all this. The future leaders of the Adrestian Empire and the Leicester Alliance, playing a strange game of unspoken dares in the cold. Claude isn't sure how much longer he wants to keep at this for: Not that he doesn't love a good mystery, but he feels like his nipples are about to freeze right off. Claude rolls down his pants and kicks off his shoes. He dips a toe into the hot spring, wincing at how hot it is compared to the chilling outdoors. Edelgard takes her place next to him, dipping her toe in and then yanking it right out.

“Ow,” she mutters. “It's so much harder when it's cold outside...”

“You just gotta endure it, Your Majesty,” Claude says, submerging one foot and then the other. He feels like he's being slowly boiled alive, but he grits his teeth, slowly wading into deeper waters. “Unless this is the Kingdom's plan to kill us both, just like frogs getting used to boiling water—”

Edelgard snorts rather ungracefully. “I don't think Dimitri is capable of such a dastardly plot.”

“Yeah, you're right. It would be one of us subjecting him to such a plan.”

“Besides, can you imagine him in here? The children of the Kingdom are much more sheltered... He'd be scandalized.”

Claude has the mental image of Prince Dimitri, future ruler of the Kingdom of Faerghus, stumbling into the hot springs wearing nothing but undergarments. He snickers.

“Who knew you had a sense of humor?”

Edelgard chuckles. “I've got some surprises up my sleeve.”

The two of them have waded into deeper water now and Claude sits on a ledge, sinking the rest of his chest and torso into the water with a contented sigh. The boiling heat has settled into a much more pleasant warmth and Edelgard waddles closer to sit next to Claude, positioning herself just a few feet away. Claude leans against the back of the spring, gazing out into the starry night sky. The water and the constellations are almost enough for him to lower his guard: Almost, but not quite.

It's a pity. Now, he's more certain than ever that in another life, he and Edelgard could have been friends.

A soft, measured voice jolts him out of his thoughts.

“Thank you.”

Claude turns to face Edelgard. “I've gotta admit, this is pretty great. I never thought we'd get to spend time like this. Might as well do it when we're still dumb kids, huh?”

Edelgard nods. She's also staring into the sky; there's a distant look in her amethyst eyes that he can't quite decipher and her brow is scrunched up like there's something on her mind. “This means a lot to me, Claude. I'll treasure this moment long past my school years.”

“Oh, come on.” Claude rolls his eyes, scooping some water in his palms before splashing a small wave of in Edelgard's direction. She flinches, but doesn't retaliate. “You don't have to be so dramatic about it, you know. I'm sure there'll be diplomatic dinners and stuff where we'll see each other, just maybe with more clothes on. Boring.”

He's talking about a future that may or may not exist, given the seeds of his grand schemes that have just begun to take root, but Edelgard doesn't need to know that. She sits up straight, wholly ignorant.

“You're right. We'll see each other in the future, Claude, but this is still nice.”

“It's been a pleasure,” Claude responds. “Thank you, Edelgard.”

**Author's Note:**

> written for rest day! thank you so much tansy for beta-ing.
> 
> find me on twitter @gautired, and feel free to [rt](https://twitter.com/gautired/status/1268778093566504962?s=20) this fic if you enjoyed it!


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